Love Letters To Him
by dearshootingstars
Summary: "A clingy boy for fifteen years...fifteen years of endless waiting... There was just silence between the two of them. " USUK fanfic
1. Chapter 0 Prologue

**DISCLAIMER NOTE: The plot of this story is not mine, nor the characters. All credits go to their respective owners (Hidekaz Himaruya, and the story maker itself). I only own the narrations and the dialogues here. This is originally a doujinshi and... uhh... **

**It broke my heart.**

It made me cry for weeks for no particular reason.

Uhh, if you want to read the doujinshi, just search it on Google or something (because even if I try to put a source link here, it's quite troublesome to change a bit of html so that you'll be able to read it.)

Anyways, feel free to leave reviews because I'm still a beginner in... writing (Really! XD)

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**_A clingy boy for fifteen years..._**fifteen years of endless waiting... There was just silence between the two of them.

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_**These love poems I've written for you, I've been sending them for 15 years, and still no reply...**_

Alfred woke up in his bed on a very misty morning. He had a dream. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for what must be a long time then he looked at his windows. His windows are beautiful, just like this apartment. It had those intricate metalwork snaking its way around the crystalline glass. It was beautiful and even the depressing sight even made it more beautiful. The windows were boarded with up with a sea of white and the sight somehow bothered him. He didn't know why but the scene made him remember some very fuzzy images of his dream where standing alone in the rain. Oh wait, he wasn't alone. Someone was with him and for some reason, they were both crying. One of them was kneeling on the ground while the other one stood with his head bowed as the sky mourned for them. But how did that happen? There was no one to mourn for so how dare the sky look like it was crying? It really was crying. He couldn't tell which was which as he looked through the glass. Was he even standing_?__ Damn, this is confusing._ Staring with forlorn eyes, Alfred sighed. _This is depressing_, he thought. _Damn._ Reminiscing at this time of day was not very healthy. Yes, he was right because the memory just made his chest feel heavy. It was like cold water was drowning him except that it was in his chest, constricting his path of air. No, it wasn't like that. It was like the ice itself was within his chest, freezing his insides. Dread? Depression? Loneliness? He couldn't even differentiate the difference of the three. Was there even a difference between those three terrible words except from their spelling?

Alfred had no illness but it really felt that way. He couldn't breathe.

_Calm down, me. This is stupid,_ he thought to himself yet again. There was no one in the house and he could feel his throat being very dry so talking was out of his option. What would his neighbors think if he's talking to himself? Oh well, it's not like they would hear him anyway. His apartment was big and fully furnished. Oh wait, it wasn't really an apartment though it looked like one. He made it _look_ like one. Living in such a place... oh well...It was a modern-style "apartment" that he "bought" who-knows-when. He didn't like the fact that he lived in a freaking big place. He didn't care. Surprisingly, despite his lack of care for this "apartment", as he called it, it looked clean-except for his room-and one would think that a happy family lives here because of the lively colors. It looked lively. His room was big and majestic. However, that majestic aura was marred with the disaster looming inside his room. It was like a hurricane tore apart his room. Clothes everywhere, papers, lots of papers littered the room, even his bed was full of it. Unsightly as it seemed but Alfred liked it this way. He has been working in this dumspster for a—oh, he didn't like to think when that when was.

Running a hand through his hair, Alfred tried to remember what happened yesterday. Feeling his attempt as hopeless, he gave up. It was because his head felt like it was about to split in half and even the cursing didn't do anything to make the pain subside. The world was reeling in and out of focus but nevertheless, he did his best to stay awake. He figured out that he would surely wake up feeling like shit, in even worse shit, if he dared to sleep again. Dizziness enveloped his brain and the colors were starting to fade to gray. _What the fuck is this? Surely I didn't drink anything last night, right? If this really was a hang over, then this shitty feeling surely makes sense._ He was still lucky that he managed not to puke on his—

"… Ug-"

_Oh no. This can't be_—

His hand went to his mouth to cover it as the tribulation of drinking came. His eyes swept the room with a look as he tried to see through the gray curtain that was covering his eyes. No, not now, damn it! His legs feel like jelly as he struggled to stand up. Eventually, he managed to stand up with his hands covering his mouth, never mind his head that felt like shit. By the time he managed to reach the bathroom door, which was open already, his hand was already filled with muck and slimy things and other things that Alfred didn't want to think about. He threw up.

"… Ugh… I think I did drink last night… Ah… better sleep this shit off…"

He didn't know how he got back on his bed but he saw piles of folded letters strewn across his bed. The sheets were crinkled from being unattended for too long because of the mountain of letters on them. There was no time for cleaning the mess and Alfred just gave up on cleaning his bed at some point. Letters, hundreds of them were everywhere. His desk, his bed, the floor, and he didn't like to think if there are some that got the wrath of his hangover vengeance. _That would be so disgusting_. He shivered at the thought.

Alfred knew that he still had a lot of work to do but he was also aware that he should clean up first. But in this weather? Alfred let his eyes stray again to his window only to find speck of white fluttering from the gray sky. Nah, I don't think so, he thought with dread. Wait… snow?

"HOLY SHIT. THIS IS COLD. AAAAAAAAGH!" Sitting up straight, he immediately hugged himself tight and how the heck did he forget that it was already winter season? Damn it all, it was freaking cold! And to make things worse, he was only wearing a white polo that was soiled by… whatever and a pajama. Great, his attire was not really in the winter category and he just sat on his bed shivering for a very long moment.

"… W-w-what the h-heck… Was it a-already t-this c-c-c-cold…?" _last night_, he couldn't even finish his question as the windows rattled with the winter morning kiss. His teeth chattering, Alfred forced himself to calm down and try to conserve body heat as much as possible. Even his so-called baby fats couldn't act as a great insulator in this biting cold, not that he would really admit that he had those fats because surely, some meddling idiotic fucking "gentleman" will-

Alfred closed his eyes yet again and sighed heavily. He looked around his room for the second time only to find his brand new stamps and large Elmer's glue sat on his small round table, waiting to be used.

He stretched on his bed despite the cold to make his legs feel something again and his small mountain of letters fell out of balance, making him stop in mid-stretch.

"...ah...", he sighed as he eyed his letters with forlorn eyes.

_No. I need to do this..._, shaking his head like a dog, chasing the heavy feeling out of his chest.

He put on his glasses, got off his bed, cleaned himself, and started to work.

**_And still no reply..._**

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**Reviews are a great help to me so feel free to comment on my story so that I'll be able to improve it ^^ Thank you!**

Oh wait, I edited some lines because I noticed some anomalies regarding the setting XD (I got side-tracked. Yay.)


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER NOTE: The plot of this story is not mine, nor the characters. All credits go to their respective owners (Hidekaz Himaruya, and the story maker itself). I only own the narrations and the dialogues here. This is originally a doujinshi and... uhh... **

**It broke my heart.**

**It made me cry for weeks for no particular reason.**

**Uhh, if you want to read the doujinshi, just search it on Google or something (because even if I try to put a source link here, it's quite troublesome to change a bit of html so that you'll be able to read it.)**

**Anyways, feel free to leave reviews because I'm still a beginner in... writing (Really! XD)**

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_**During the first year, I was reckless. I wrote every day without fail; I licked stamps relentlessly, delivering my heart to you.**_

He squeezed his glue hard and not a drop came out, just pure air, accompanied by the wheezing air from the mouth of the glue. What? It was supposed to be brand-new… or maybe that was just his imagination. He couldn't remember when he last used this _thing_. It must be ages ago. Alfred sighed heavily and he really did need to finish putting stamps on his letters. Today's the last day for the post office because Christmas vacation was already starting and the post office would surely be closed during that season…? He was not really sure about that. Was that even the case? And why the heck do they have to close the post office when it was the holidays? _Ahh… contemplating again such trivial matters. Better not think of it._

Eyeing his collection of stamps, Alfred sighed heavily again. He knew that it was his fault for not sending these letters right after he wrote them. Now it becomes like this. The letters must've hated him for this. He also knew that if these letters weren't able to reach their destination… then he would deliver them himself?

"No other choice then, fuck this, I saw it once on television that they use their tongues for putting stamps on letters. Might as well try it." His eyes wandered at his window and sure enough, white flurries were falling from the gray sky. He didn't really like to go out of this weather considering the fact that the convenience story was very far away. "It's so fucking cold outside. That's... hahaha, I'm talking to myself again.", chuckling to himself, he brought the back of the stamp to his tongue and licked it.

"Ugh…disgusting...", looking at the saliva-covered back of the stamp, he pasted it on the envelope, hoping that what he saw on television really was true. It was an experiement, his last hope because if this thing didn't do its job, then he would freeze outside. He didn't like the cold after all. In this time of year, he would always sleep it off and wake up in spring, _My fats will save me, HAHAHA! That's how heroes do it, right?_ Was what he said back then. After a few moments, he lifted his finger and turned the envelope upside down. Fortunately, it worked. "It worked, right?" Alfred's eyes brightened up at the sight and dimmed again when he saw the amount of stamps he needed to lick. "WOAH, DUDE! IT WORKED! HAHAHA! A HERO'S IDEA REALLY IS THE BEST. HAHAHA! But hell, goodluck to my tongue on this.", cheering himself on, he licked the stamps despite its disgusting taste but rejoiced as each stamp attached itself on each envelope. He was such a kid back then, ah well, even now.

After about what seemed like hours of licking, Alfred felt like his tongue had been mutilated already. He touched it and it felt rough and dry to the touch, _Ugh, gross…_ but despite this, he looked at his piles of letters fondly and proudly. His _ahoge_ twitched with elation and if ever he had a tail, it would surely swish here and there like a puppy. Oh well, he can look like one if he wanted to, with those blue puppy eyes of his, eyes that hold the sky in them, a vast sea of blue that drowns can drown the stars in them. Chuckling at this, Alfred looked like a kid, such a simpleton. With that baby face and all that, he _does _look like a kid. _And this behavior…_He had been writing all sorts of things everyday that it really created a small mountain of letters. It was like a journal and even though Alfred was not that fond in writing, he was still surprised to see that he was able to make this amount of letters.

A piece of paper fell out of one the envelopes that Alfred forgot to seal. He picked it up and eyed the paper intently.

"A year, huh...", Alfred gazed at the falling snow outside his window for what seemed like a very long time; lost in thought.

It was an invitation for his twelfth birthday.

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**Reviews are a great help to me so feel free to comment on my story so that I'll be able to improve it ^^ Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER NOTE: The plot of this story is not mine, nor the characters. All credits go to their respective owners (Hidekaz Himaruya, and the story maker itself). I only own the narrations and the dialogues here. This is originally a doujinshi and... uhh... **

**It broke my heart.**

It made me cry for weeks for no particular reason.

Uhh, if you want to read the doujinshi, just search it on Google or something (because even if I try to put a source link here, it's quite troublesome to change a bit of html so that you'll be able to read it.)

Anyways, feel free to leave reviews because I'm still a beginner in... writing (Really! XD)

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**_I was reckless the second year as well..._**

It was a very sunny day this time, the wind was very hot and the sun was glaring down on Alfred's neck. Time must've flown but surprisingly Alfred was the same as ever. He was sitting with his back across his window while he was writing his letter. Actually, he has just finished another one of his poems and he wanted to add it in his letter. But it seems like he lost the paper where he wrote the poem. Alfred's been quite hooked up to making poems especially in the romantic genre. He would just suddenly have a spark of inspiration and he would just write it on a piece of paper. And the problem was, he couldn't find it.

"… Seriously? Great. I've lost it! Where am I supposed to find it?"Alfred murmured angrily at himself as he tried to find the paper in his pockets or in his drawers. Casting a wary eye around his room, he sighed. He never got a chance to clean his room because he was busy with his work, not that he was bothered by it, but nevertheless, he never missed a day to write a letter. And that resulted into the mess he was facing right of filth must've piled up underneath his bed as Alfred tried to find 'that' piece of paper. It was his very first completed poem dedicated to his very special person and he used his every learned technique upon its completion. Feeling under the bed and only coming up with a thick layer of dust, Alfred sighed again, annoyed this time.

"Where the heck did I drop it? Surely not there… "he stood inside his room motionless for a long moment and Alfred walked outside his room to go to his storage room. It was dark and big and it was full of useless stuff but Alfred couldn't bring himself to throw it away, for some reason._"They're priceless, so don't touch them. I'll clean it myself when I've got the time… but thanks, I'll take care of it." _he once said to his housekeeper who tried to clean it once. Hence, it was left alone, just like his room. Knowing where his things have been one of Alfred's traits, but it seemed like this time, he just couldn't find what he was looking for. His mind was in a mess because of work and he just kept on piling his things somewhere and that includes his storage room.

"Hmm… It's been quite a long time since I last cleaned this. I bet it's very filthy already, and hopefully, that piece of paper is here somewhere. I remember going here after I wrote it and..."Alfred's eyes stared at the darkness ahead and he could barely make out a body sized mirror at the corner of the room. The room was full of shelves, crates, and boxes and they were full of random things. He walked towards the direction of the mirror, not really seeing it anymore. Alfred reached out his hand and touched the glass; he couldn't see himself but what he could see were memories; memories when he last cleaned this storage room. Tears fell from his eyes and but he ignored it anyway. He knew it was useless to wipe something that would eventually ruin his face for about three seconds after he wiped it, so he let it fall. Looking around, he saw a wooden nutcracker sitting in one of the crates beside the mirror. He picked it up and examined it.

"Hmm, wait… this is very familiar.", he held the wooden nutcracker gingerly, afraid that the years had tolled upon its little figure. It was wearing a blue tail-coat with a red collar that ran down along the front side of the suit. A line of white paint that ran across its chest had formed a X design and Alfred figured out from the looks of it that it was a cravat. It was also wearing a tall black hat covered its whole forehead. Indeed, it was wearing the uniform and the colors of the Revolutionary War, though he's not certain if it's the 8th US. Alfred froze as he contemplated everything in his head and as he stared at the nutcracker in his hands.

"It's been so long…"chuckling to himself as tears formed in his eyes. He could still remember everything despite being a long time ago. Like yesterday was painted in his eyes, he could remember every detail vividly.

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_It was his twelfth birthday and he was still living in the same old mansion up to this day. His house was a Queen Anne Victorian Style with maroon roof tiles and with peach exterior, mostly made of redwood. Along with a vast garden and a single fountain in the middle, it was enclosed with maroon bricks and black strips of metal wounded themselves and formed intricate designs along the beautiful barrier. The house had been seven stories high but it was once caught in a fire that made it into a four story mansion. It was antique and had survived the worst earthquakes because of its floating foundation that allowed it to shift freely along with the ground. The house also had a history of itself and because of that history, the construction of the house was of a maze-type with its roughly 160 rooms that if you were careless enough, you would get lost easily and probably die. But despite this fact, Alfred knows every nook and cranny of this mansion that he's not afraid of walking around the property. It was sunny and the day was peaceful, a very good omen for this special day, his birthday._

_His housekeeper during this time was Toris and he kept everything in order while Alfred was gone overseas learning. They were good friends and were always on good terms with each other so Alfred had put his trust on Toris when he left. Alfred had just came from Singapore where he has finished his middle school in the world's no. 1 school. Toris had greeted him on the porch with a smile on his face with a pink apron to boot._

_'He didn't change after all these years.', Alfred thought to himself as he was approached by Toris._

_Toris is a plain-faced young man with shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes. His hair was always tied up at the nape of his neck but this time, he was wearing it down."Welcome home, sir. How's your flight?" Toris asked as he lifted Alfred's trunk and brought it into the house, with Alfred following him behind. "It was fine, it was a Hero's flight! HAHAHA! Anyway Toris, did you receive my message?" Alfred asked after giving out a booming laugh with his Hero-thing. It was normal and Toris was so used to it that he didn't have the will to be annoyed by him. It was such a hopeless case such as stopped in his tracks with a worried look on his face, he didn't show it to Alfred though. He put on a calm face when he turned to face him and answer his question._

_"Yes, sir. Uhh… "_

_"What is it, Toris?"_

_" … you are…trying to clean up… here? I-I'll do it for you…", Toris said with a hesitant glance at Alfred. That somehow formed into a question because of his uncertainty. He didn't want to sound rude or anything and he knew that Alfred had jet lag so he thinks that it was better for him to rest first. And it was his birthday after all, he couldn't allow Alfred get dirty or do any work, because it was his birthday. But Toris also couldn't deny him to do what he wants to contacted Toris before he left Singapore, saying that he wanted to clean up when he got home. That was probably the reason of his hesitation in asking and Alfred was just as oblivious as ever. He passed it off as Toris' nervousness for the small party tonight. As for the stamina, Alfred was quite known for being strong and having high endurance… but the thought still worried Toris._

_"Oh no, that's alright. It's just a little shit cleaning. I can handle it.. It's just that, I should make myself useful on my birthday, I think… Haha, that's my gift to myself. A Hero's decree, that is." Alfred chuckled as he lifted some of his dusty books and brought it to the storage room. Toris smiled when he saw a spark of determination in Alfred's eyes, his eyes that looks so young no matter how much its owner grows. Seems like he would really clean 'that' storage room that someone hasn't set foot on for years._

_"As you wish, sir. Some coffee? I'll go make some ... Oh and, be careful sir. Rumors had it that there were wails heard from that room from time to time. I even heard them myself." Upon hearing this, Alfred felt his body going cold at the mere thought that there were 'unwanted guests' in his house, particularly in his storage room. He stopped in mid-stride and turned to face Toris. He's not about to make a so-not-cool face especially in front of his subject, but Alfred was never known for his bravery against ghosts and mysterious beings. With shaky hands, he tried to hold the books tighter to himself and forced a painful smile of confidence on his face that was drained of color with each passing hoped that that rumor would make Alfred stop his attempt in cleaning the storage room and would just focus on his party."T-thanks! That'd be cool. I-I'll see to it that that rumor is n-never true. HAHAHA!" Alfred told Toris, he stuttered, unable to show that he really was afraid because of his pride. He's a Hero and heroes don't get afraid with pesky ghosts or mysterious presences… or creepy… beings. With a booming laugh, he walked off at a steady pace first then as each second passed; his strides became faster and hurried._

_After Alfred had his back turned away from him, Toris smiled silently to himself then he sighed in resignation. He was aware of Alfred's weakness about ghosts, so he decided to tease him a little bit about it, regardless of the circumstances but fortunately, Alfred was stubborn, as always. And since Alfred wouldn't accept his help, he might want to accept some company right now because of the ghost thing. But it seemed like Toris' schedule would not make it with Alfred's cleaning so he thought that he should ask one of Alfred's friends who were always with him and knows about his fright of ghosts._

_Toris sighed since all of Alfred's friends know of his fright of ghosts but he need to choose properly who to ask because with a wrong move, that person could scare Alfred's wits out of him instead of helping him._

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_After that encounter with Toris, Alfred huffed out a heavy sigh of anxiety as he went around a corner. His heart was beating fast and cold sweat had formed on his forehead. Leaning his back against the wall, he steadied himself and continued his short excursion towards the haunted room. 'Keep calm, Alfred… it's not true… it's not true. You didn't hear anything damn it! Heroes don't get scared and you might as well jump out of the window if you freak out.' Alfred told himself mentally with a facepalm. However, his body just won't listen to him and continued to enervate. His hands shook even harder and with a grunt of exertion, Alfred tried to stop shaking again._

_'It's not true, it's not true, it's not true….', Like a mantra, he told himself, glorifying in the relief that was slowly flowing through his body as his mind tried to accept the chant. Like a prayer._

_Finally, Alfred stopped shaking and he was already in front of the storage room by the time he succeeded in doing so._

_"Well, great. I-I can finally clean this place after a very long time. I bet it's been collecting d-dust." eyeing the door warily, he slowly opened the door. It creaked just as Toris said that it would. Alfred gulped as goose bumps formed on his arms. Probably from the lack of use and there was a build-up of rust at the hinges._

_The interior was very dark and cold and there was no other source of light other than the emergency flashlight and the door behind him. The lone window at the far left side of the wall was barricaded with a thick piece of plywood because it was intruded by thieves before. They still haven't fixed it so they barricaded it temporarily. And the light bulb in this room always gets mysteriously busted easily so they didn't bother to change it anymore, seeing it as a waste. Taking one step at a time, he entered the room carefully._

_"Hmm… Looking into your past is never easy, even for me. Okay! No ghostsare allowed inside the Hero's storage room! Let's get this over with!" He placed the books on top of one of the crates and folded his sleeves._

_'Heh… this will take long…' Alfred thought to himself as he started working with the boxes._

_"But the Hero in me shall not waver!"_

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**Reviews are a great help to me so feel free to comment on my story so that I'll be able to improve it ^^ Thank you!**


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